


Instamatics #49, 8/6/00 -or- "Call of the Wild"

by Glittermonkey (Schizanthus)



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schizanthus/pseuds/Glittermonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pouting!Curt, junk mail, and silliness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instamatics #49, 8/6/00 -or- "Call of the Wild"

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to ff.net back in 1/29/2003.

The brass mail slot clattered, and a small deluge of mail cascaded onto the polished marble tiles of the Slade residence entryway.

Gathering up the pile of envelopes, postcards and periodicals Curt wandered back into the sitting room and deposited them on a convenient coffee table. He started picking through the various items, throwing some straight into the wastebasket, perusing through the occasional brightly-colored magazine, setting aside the more official-looking correspondence for someone else to take care of.

Briefly glancing through a small pamphlet, Curt started to toss it aside when he noticed the picture on the cover. He stopped and paged through it more slowly with renewed interest. After a few minutes of reading, he glanced across the room speculatively.

"Hey, Bri?"

"Yeah?" Brian looked up from the trash novel he'd been reading.

"Check it out... these people called the Defenders of Wildlife... they sent us something about adopting a wolf," Curt held up the pamphlet by way of explanation. "I want to adopt a wolf!"

"Curt, they just want our money. It's not like you'll come home one day and find a live wolf parcel posted to the front door."

A thoughtful silence, followed by closer examination of the booklet. Brian settled back and tried to find where he'd left off in his reading. He wasn't successful.

"But they'll use it to help wolves in the wild! See?" Curt was now pointing at some fine print that Brian obviously could not read from several feet away. "And they send you pictures of them and tell you how they're doing. Look, here's one of a baby wolf." The hopeful tone in his voice was still apparent.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Curt, it's a scam."

A stubborn silence.

Turning to see what was causing it, Brian immediately wished   
he hadn't.

"Curt, stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Stop giving me that look."

"What look?"

"That look. The look that people give you when they think you've just kicked a small puppy in the head."

More silence.

"Not that I've ever had reason to get such a look, of course."

The silence continued. Seconds turned into minutes.

"And quit making that face. I feel no guilt whatsoever."

One would have heard crickets chirping, had it not been broad daylight.

"If you think a trembling bottom lip is getting you anywhere, you're sadly mistaken."

The clock chimed noon, breaking the hush. A sigh of resignation.

"Okay, fine. Where's my bloody checkbook?"

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> To Alex, for beta and dreaming up this series in the first place. To the US postal service, for constantly depositing interesting and useless tidbits in our boxes.


End file.
